Barry Crawford has a fundraiser for a magnificent project: MECHATEUTHIS.
He intends to display this glorious mechanical creation at Burning Man, which is fine, I suppose…but once Burning Man is over, he needs to keep moving north and east, because it’s ultimate destiny must lie in Morris, Minnesota, in my yard.
I wonder if the university would complain if I gave credit to teams of 8 students every semester, whose job was to crank it for my pleasure all the time?
I feel for the poor girl, but still:
Her parents insisted that she wasn’t sick, just Scottish
I must be getting better! Give me a few more days for my sense of humor to mature to something slightly less infantile.
Only slightly, mind you.
Especially when they’ve been jazzed up a bit by Michael Bay.
It gets a bit repetitive once the joke is made, but that’s true of Michael Bay movies, too.
I remember Rush in the 1970s — I even have a couple of their albums (in vinyl, so no, I haven’t listened to them in probably 30 years), but they always annoyed me with that selfish Libertarian pseudo-intellectual crap.
In the Seventies, Peart rankled the rock press with an affinity for libertarian hero Ayn Rand — he cited her “genius” in liner notes, and critics promptly labeled Rush fascists. Rush’s breakthrough mini-rock opera, 1976’s 2112, is, in part, a riff on Rand’s sci-fi novel Anthem. There’s nothing wildly controversial about 2112’s pro-individuality message: It’s hard to imagine anyone siding with the bad guys who want to dictate “the words you read/The songs you sing/The pictures that give pleasure to your eyes.” But Rush’s earlier musical take on Rand, 1975’s unimaginatively titled “Anthem,” is more problematic, railing against the kind of generosity that Peart now routinely practices: “Begging hands and bleeding hearts will/Only cry out for more.” And “The Trees,” an allegorical power ballad about maples dooming a forest by agitating for “equal rights” with lofty oaks, was strident enough to convince a young Rand Paul that he had finally found a right-wing rock band.
But now…
Buzzfeed hooked up some of their employees with their favorite childhood toys to get a reaction.
Now I’m remembering my favorite toy: Horrible Hamilton!
Yeah, that last post was hard. Here’s something silly.
Be afraid.
I’m watching the toaster from now on, just in case the sneaky little gizmo tries to shiv me in the kidneys some morning, in addition to burning my bagel.
